


What Makes a Father

by Creativemind34



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Modern AU, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 17:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20429753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creativemind34/pseuds/Creativemind34
Summary: Zuko always wanted his father to choose him. It never occurred to him that he could choose his father.





	What Makes a Father

**Author's Note:**

> My creative writing professor told us to write fanfiction for homework. We had to write a scene between two characters, change their names, and exclude any explicit references to who they were and what they were from. This is what I turned in (with the names switched back, obviously).

A sliver of moon cast pale light upon Zuko’s tear-stained face, providing the slightest of comforts in the dank, claustrophobic alley. A cold breeze sent a chill through his limbs, and his eyes stung with salt from tears he’d long since stopped shedding. Leaning his head against the brick wall behind him he closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and told himself everything would be alright.

The alley was briefly illuminated as a door to his right swung open and shut. The jovial sounds of happy customers enjoying a diner permeated the night air before once more fading to muddled background noise. Zuko didn’t move. 

“Shouldn’t you be inside tending to customers?” he asked, his tone flat. Footsteps echoed as a figure loomed closer before coming to a stop in front of him.

“I’m more worried about my nephew right now.” The figure stepped closer and leaned into Zuko’s line of sight. It was a man in his sixties, with receding gray hair and a beard to match. Uncle Iroh. Zuko cracked the slightest of smiles despite himself.

“What, no tea?” He asked wryly. Uncle Iroh chuckled. He slowly dropped himself against the wall next to his nephew, several joints popping in the process.

“I figured you weren’t in much of a tea mood right now.”

Silence hung heavy in the air between them. A question that needed to be asked in the right manner, lest a bad situation become worse by the turn of a phrase.

“After all these years…” Zuko muttered into the night. He stared down at his shoes. They were a pale green—not his style, but he’d bought them in an effort to blend in with the local kids. A gesture that didn’t seem like it would matter now.

Uncle Iroh’s arm fell across his shoulders and pulled him in. An embrace that would ordinarily be rejected was now accepted willingly.

“You don’t have to go back to him.” Iroh’s words had an edge to them that stood in stark contrast to his usual gentle nature. A certain hardness that lent itself to an underlying anger. Zuko almost pulled away in alarm. 

“How can I not?” Zuko sighed. “He’s my father.”

  
Iroh didn’t respond, but Zuko could feel his body tense at the word “father.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. If I go back then you don’t have to spend all of your time worrying about me anymore.”

  
Uncle Iroh whipped his head around quicker than Zuko thought possible for a man of his age. 

“Do you think going to live with your father would make me stop worrying about you? If anything, I would worry more! He’s never been a father to you. He only wants you back now because he thinks you’ll be useful to him.”

His fists were clenched, and that sliver of moonlight illuminated half of a loathful sneer. Zuko had a fleeting thought of how foreign the expression seemed on his uncle’s face. Tears began to form in his eyes again. Apparently he wasn’t done crying after all. 

“I spent so long seeking his approval. Wanting his love. Doing anything I could to make him value me. I thought I had finally gotten past that.”

Iroh grabbed him by the shoulders. Suddenly they were looking at one another. Zuko watched loathing melt away and a much more familiar look of concern take its place. His stomach dropped when he noticed the bags under Iroh’s eyes. His uncle should be happily enjoying his retirement, but instead here he was, exhausting himself trying to keep his nephew’s head above water. The guilt ate Zuko alive. 

“Zuko, listen to me. I know it’s hard, but you have to remember that you don’t owe him anything. After everything he did to you and everything he put you through, all those years of abuse and neglect, you have every right to ignore him completely. You’re much better off in life without him.”

Zuko swallowed. He thought back on the three years he’d spent with his uncle—years of stress, hardship, and pain. His uncle working double shifts every night to support them. His uncle bailing him out when he got into a fight at school. His uncle spending every waking second making sure he stayed on the right path no matter the obstacle, and making sure he knew he always had a home to come back to if ever he wandered. A home that took constant effort to maintain. One that wasn’t his responsibility to provide.

A dam broke. Zuko collapsed into his uncle’s arms. 

“I’m sorry…” he wept, “I’m so sorry…”

A hand ran soothingly up and down his back. Iroh muttered softly in his ear.

“It’s alright. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

After a minute, Zuko had calmed down enough to speak again.

“You didn’t ask for any of this. You shouldn’t have to deal with me. I shouldn’t be your burden. I’m not your responsibility,” He mumbled. Uncle Iroh caught him off guard with a hearty laugh.

“Oh, Zuko,” he said, “I have never viewed you as a burden. And you are not just a responsibility to me, either.” Iroh pulled away just enough to hold his nephew at arms’ length. His eyes shone with a familiar warmth. “You are my privilege.”

With those words, Zuko’s mind was once more thrown back in time across the years he’d spent with his uncle, but this time he remembered joy, contentment, and a sense of belonging. His uncle yelling in triumph when he finally figured out a homework question they’d been puzzling over for hours. His uncle bringing him tea with a warm smile on his face when he was sick or upset. His uncle remaining calm even in disappointment and reminding Zuko that he loved him despite his faults. They were family, after all. That was what family did. 

Zuko remembered then why he had all but gotten over his need to earn his father’s love. Why would he need it when Uncle Iroh had so much to give him already?

Upon realizing his thinking error, Zuko laughed. He’d had his father’s approval the entire time. He’d just been calling the wrong man “Father.”

Iroh seemed to notice his shift in demeanor. His smile grew brighter as he hugged Zuko closer.

“I love you, my son,” he said. Zuko’s heart soared at the words.

“I love you too, Dad.” 

The two lingered in the moment, holding onto each other and enjoying one another’s presence. Eventually, Iroh stood.

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of sitting in this dark alley. I’d much rather have a cup of tea inside. Would you care to join me?”

Zuko chuckled. “Don’t we have customers to take care of?” 

“They’re fine,” Iroh insisted, holding a hand out to his nephew. “Are you coming or not?”

Zuko grabbed his uncle’s hand and allowed himself to be hauled up. Uncle Iroh wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and together they went inside.

Zuko told himself that everything would be okay. But this time, he actually believed it.

**Author's Note:**

> I re-read this several times so I think I caught everything but I'm notorious for missing things I need to edit so if you saw any "Zachary"s or "Irwin"s please point it out because I am an idiot and I require assistance to reduce the affects of my idiocy. Thank you.


End file.
